Month: March 2013

It’s hard to explain how the feeling of one’s own energy is below 0 or at least does not go over the reserve (imagine a petrol fuel gauge). Every little thing cost so much energy: responding to an sms, going outside the house to take the mail out of the letter box, thinking about what to cook or eat, looking after a child.

Last night I had a friend over for dinner and she described being tired. I can relate. Every moment. I sleep a lot, when I can, and rest when my toddler has a midday rest, if I can. Then there are these things to get done like reading emails or simply washing clothes. Even thinking about them tires me.

Today I fed my daughter and the day’s serve of patience was nearing 0. Suddenly it was below zero and I had no tolerance for mess… then I explode and at the same time feel bad because I know that she’s just doing what a normal toddler is doing. Learning to feed herself and making mess. My serve of daily patience often runs out before the day’s end. (more…)

I recently contacted an old friend of mine from 10 years ago. I wanted to hear her perspective of grief, given at the time she lost first her Dad through cancer and then within months her Mum followed him due to a broken heart. At the time we studied Applied Psychology together.

There are many, but if there was one sentence to highlight from our conversation, it would be this one:

I’ve also learnt that no specific length of time can be given to us in our journey of grief.

Here is our interaction, published with her consent:

Hi C.,The other day I was thinking of you and remembering how both of your parents passed away in just a few months.

As you might know, my mum committed suicide a year ago, just 4 months after our younger daughter passed away in our arms. I’m dealing with the grief on a daily basis, some days are less affected by my emotions and some more.

I was wondering how you integrated the grief in your journey with all the years in between. How have you been dealing with your grief? How are you now, thinking of your mum and dad?

I understand if you prefer not to talk/write about it and I appreciate if you did.

6 months later I remembered her by wanting to carry both of my girls on/in my arms:

~ What’s that on your arm Mummy? ~

This time Ananda Mae is no longer as cooperative when it comes to taking pictures:

She’s also started interacting with the tattoo on my arm, pointing at it, rubbing it.

This time on the day where I honor Amya’s memory, we went down to the lake and scattered some rose petals into the water. This is what I would have done on Hope’s Place, where we scattered her ashes, only that it’s on the other side of this earth ball and unreachable at the moment.